The Ties That Bind
by alastingimpression
Summary: After years apart, the gang finds themselves connected once again in the '90s. AUTHOR'S NOTE.. anyone still interested? Review if so. :
1. Prologue

**Title: The Ties That Bind  
Type: That '70s Show Fan Fiction  
Rating: PG-13 (Sex, Drugs, Language)  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of That '70s Show. I do own all my original characters and this story, though. Don't take.  
Summary: After years apart, the gang finds themselves connected once again in the '90s.**

**Writer's Note:** I haven't seen a lot of recent episodes of That '70s Show, but basically, this story takes place as if Eric did not go to Africa. Instead, he left to find himself. The rest is easy to pick up on.

**ALSO: This story is a bit adult, but not graphic enough to fit into the M category. Be warned that it contains depitions of sex, drugs, language, and possible violence. The rating may be upped, but I'll warn you before that.**

**Prologue**

_Summer 1984_

The moment they told me that my mother was dead, it felt like a pin pricked me and let all the helium slowly fade as I fell to the floor. I knew I'd have to go back. Most twenty-four year olds know why they left home when they did and what they were going to do with the rest of their lives, but I'm not one of them. In fact, I'd never been more clueless in my entire existence.

I'd left Point Place five years ago to try and "find myself". I was fed up with everything in my life, especially my parents and even my friends. It was easier to pack up and not tell anyone where you're going than to continue living an empty life filled with pot and useless jobs. I found that in the real world, it's the same. I honestly hadn't been laid since I'd left. I was twenty-four and jobless when I, Eric Forman, came back to Point Place.

I'd always referred to my mother as Kitty, until she was dead. Suddenly I regretted this and a million other teenage screw ups and heartaches I'd caused her. The funeral was nice; I even saw Red cry. Laurie wasn't there. I figured she was probably strung out on drugs with her current sex partner. She'd have been close to thirty by then, but I doubt she'd changed. I felt like crying when I thought of how me and Laurie must have abandoned Mom. I thought that if she'd have known of some of the other things I'd done, she probably wouldn't have died happy. They said that she was happy. They said it was an accident. Accident my ass. The driver had left town after realizing he'd killed the best wife and mother in Point Place. Hyde told me that the car was totaled. He told me he wouldn't mind if I cried. I didn't. Not then.

I asked Hyde what ever became of the old gang. He told me that everybody had fizzled out after I left. No one had seen Kelso in three years, though Casey still popped up here and there. Donna moved to California to, like me, find herself after I left. He didn't talk very much about her. Fez disappeared. Hyde told me he thinks he moved back to his home country after things got boring. He mentioned Jackie last, and with a bitter tone. He said she floated and they hadn't talked in two years after a brutal breakup. He said he'd caught her hooking a few miles from the city limits. He said she was an emotional mess. He said he didn't care. I wasn't sure at the time if he was saying that because it was true or because he thought saying it out loud would make it a fact.

I didn't say anything, but Hyde didn't look so good. I figured maybe it was sleep deprivation, as I'd had that often and it had a bad effect on my health. He told me I was still the same old Eric and that he was glad of that because everyone around here changed, including him. I thought about it later and realized he was right. I'd cut my hair and gotten wiser, I'd lost my mother, but I was still Eric. Even though I wasn't sure if that was good or bad, I took comfort in the fact that I hadn't changed.

It was after the funeral that Red cornered me and we had the biggest argument we'd ever had. He told me that she worried about me day and night and that despite being happy on the outside, he knew her and that was she was secretly hating herself for screwing me up, even though he swore that it was my own fault. I told him that I wasn't screwed up, that I'd made mistakes just like everyone had. I told him that he wasn't flawless. He told me that he'd never liked me and that he knew I'd royally mess up and that he'd laughed when I did. He told me that he'd never worried, he'd just watched everyone else weather away. He told me that Donna had become an emotional wreck and that he knew by her face that she'd genuinely loved me even if I didn't love her.

I had nothing to say but that I was sorry and that my life wasn't exactly going the way I wanted it to. I told him I was lost and confused, but he didn't let up. He kept pounding my life to the ground, blaming me for her death. He told me that he wished he never had to see me again and that he didn't care what I did. I told him that he wouldn't, that I'd kill myself. He told me I was too chicken and I knew he was right. That's when the tears came. Everything I'd never cried for came to a head in those next few hours.

I left the funeral in a fit of tears and anger and found myself driving randomly around Point Place. It was almost dark and I still hadn't made any headway on whatever I was thinking about when I saw her. In a short jean skirt and small white t-shirt was Jackie Burkhart, my long lost enemy, standing on the side of the road with her thumb out, waiting to hitch a ride. I pulled over and she saw me. She sat in the front seat beside me and memories flooded back. She looked beautiful and terrible at the same time. Her makeup was caked. Her hair was stringy and fell completely straight. We stared at each other in silence for the longest time before she hugged me. I cried on her shoulder for the longest time, and she on mine.

"Forman," She finally spoke out, "Where have you been?"

"I don't know," I replied, "My mom died. I was just at the funeral. Red wouldn't stop yelling at me. I wanted to kill him." I'm sure my tears were soaking her shirt, but for once, I didn't care.

"I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who left, Jackie. I don't know where my head's been these past five years. I'm sorry if it seems like I just disappeared."

"You really worried everyone. Where did you go?"

"Chicago, but I don't want to talk about that. I just missed everyone so much. What have you been doing these past few years?"

"Floating, as Hyde would say. I was a hooker for three months. I sold more cheese. I moved away. I came back. I have no friends. My family hates me. My boyfriend, George, broke up with me."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"Whatever happened to Donna?"

"You can't ask about her. You broke her heart. You have no right to ask about her. She was so broken up after you left. You were her first love. She really loved you, Forman."

"Please call me Eric."

"All she did was mourn and cry over you. She literally hung around the basement at 4am. She laid on the couch, she sat on the floor. She told me how she missed your touch, your kiss, your kind words. Even though I'd never understood her attraction to you, I couldn't see her like that. I bought her a ticket to California. I told her to make something of herself. I haven't heard from her since. I like to think it's better that way. What do you have to say about that, Forman?"

"Please call me Eric."

"Ok, Eric."

"Jackie, I know stuff is screwed up, but please don't blame it on me."

"Even if it's your fault?"

Our first kiss was more selfish than anything. Urgent, yet sweet. We both needed to feel something real and raw. We held each other the whole night. It felt nice. It felt familiar. We woke up the next morning and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. That's when I first realized that I'd changed.

---

Please review! I'm pretty proud of this story so far.. so I'd like some opinions. Thanks in advance.


	2. Eagle Flies Alone

**Title: The Ties That Bind  
Type: That '70s Show Fan Fiction  
Rating: PG-13 (Sex, Drugs, Language)  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of That '70s Show. I do own all my original characters and this story, though. Don't take.  
Summary: After years apart, the gang finds themselves connected once again in the '90s.**

**Writer's Note:** I haven't seen a lot of recent episodes of That '70s Show, but basically, this story takes place as if Eric did not go to Africa. Instead, he left to find himself. The rest is easy to pick up on.

**ALSO: This story is a bit adult, but not graphic enough to fit into the M category. Be warned that it contains depitions of sex, drugs, language, and possible violence. The rating may be upped, but I'll warn you before that.**

**Chapter One: Eagle Flies Alone**

_January 1992_

Six-year-old Elizabeth Forman awoke to the sound of her father rustling with the newspaper. It was Saturday, which meant no school for Elizabeth. She sat up in her bed, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and glanced at the clock. Though she still wasn't accustomed to every element involving time, she knew that by 7:30, both of her parents would be awake and her mother would probably be working on breakfast. Breakfast in the Forman household usually consisted of French toast and sausage or scrambled eggs with cheese and toast. On Saturdays, however, Elizabeth knew they were having omelets and bacon. Remembering this, Elizabeth quickly jumped out of bed and hurried to the kitchen being sure not to wake her three-year-old sister, Delia, who was sleeping soundly in the bed across the room.

Upon entering the kitchen, Elizabeth smiled at her father, Eric Forman, who glanced up from the newspaper to smile at his daughter. He quickly folded the paper and removed his reading glasses. He knew that now that Elizabeth was awake, it was family time. He never wanted his daughters to have the kind of father he'd had. Eric wore a ratty, navy bathrobe over his white t-shirt and black sweats. On his feet were frog slippers, a gift from Elizabeth two Christmases ago. He drank his coffee with sugar and often, including today, in his #1 Dad mug. What could he say? At thirty-two, he was domesticated.

"Good morning, honey," Eric greeted his daughter. She took her seat across from him at the table. She sat on her legs in order to rest her arms on the tabletop. She yawned, then smiled back at Eric.

"Morning, Dad," She replied, presenting less enthusiasm than the greeting she'd received. She _had_ just woken up.

"How did you sleep?"

"Ok," The child replied, "I'm still tired."

"That happens," Eric admitted, his smile never-fading. He admired his daughter as he did every morning. She was beautiful in her Little Mermaid pajamas. Elizabeth favored her mother more than him. Her hair was lighter, but it flowed soft and smooth as her mother's did. She had the bright brown eyes, the same nose, same laugh, mannerisms. Delia, on the other hand, had Eric's eyes and smile. He was afraid she'd also develop his smart mouth, but prayed against that.

There was no doubt that Elizabeth was her mother's child, but both children were daddy's girls all in all. That was something Eric took pride in more than anything, his children loved him. That was more than he could say for his parents. He couldn't remember a time not hating his father.

"Where's mommy?" Elizabeth asked, breaking into Eric's thoughts.

"She's upstairs getting ready," Eric answered. Upstairs consisted of one room, their bedroom. The kids room was off of a little hall that contained the bathroom and door to the basement. That hall led to the living room and the kitchen.

"Does she have to work today?" Elizabeth asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"No, but you know how Mommy is about looking nice," Eric replied, jokingly rolling his eyes and scrunching his face. This caused Elizabeth to giggle, but not drop the subject.

"I think she always looks nice," Elizabeth told him, still smiling from the face he'd made.

"Well I couldn't agree more, but try telling that to Mommy," Eric stated.

"Are we still having our omelets and bacon today?" Elizabeth asked. Sometimes, Eric thought she was a sea of endless questions in a tiny human body.

"Of course!" Eric replied, as if it were completely obvious, then smiled to let her know he wasn't serious, "I think Mommy was waiting until you and your sister woke up so it wouldn't get cold."

Elizabeth just stared at her father for a few moments, which seemed a lifetime to the girl, before she gave her puppy dog face. The puppy dog face was a pout that Eric could never resist. He tortured her for a fraction of a minute before answering the question she never even had to ask.

"Fine, fine. Go wake up Delia."

He didn't have to tell the child twice. She was off to her room like a rocket shooting into outer space. It took Elizabeth a few minutes until she finally emerged with a half asleep Delia, who muttered complaints under her breath. Her blanket, which she held with one hand, trailed the ground. Her thumb rested in her mouth as she climbed into Eric's lap.

"Delia," Eric began, his voice gentle as he stretched out the syllables of her name.

"Hm?" The child managed. Her head was already resting against his shoulder.

"What have Mommy and Daddy been telling you about sucking your thumb?" Eric asked. He rubbed the child's back as she eased back into sleep.

"Don't," Delia answered, then yawned. She removed the thumb quickly, then wiped the slobber on the closest thing to her - Eric's robe. He didn't mind, the robe had been puked on by both children numerous times over the years.

After a few good, solid minutes of silence, the sound of footsteps descending the stairs roused both children to their feet. Eric smiled at their eagerness. He tried to remember innocence, but it'd been so long ago that he'd been an innocent child that he just wanted to protect his children from the world for as long as he possibly could.

When she entered the kitchen, Jackie was beautiful. Her black hair flipped out just below her shoulders, her makeup was flawless. Childbearing had done nothing to her figure. She was among the lucky few who'd been back into their normal clothes after a few months. She wore a smile and a casual black skirt.

"Good morning, kids!" Jackie exclaimed. She was enthusiastic, more so than normal. For once Eric felt it might be genuine. She lifted Delia into the air quickly, then balanced the toddler on her hip while she bent to kiss Eric softly on the lips. "Morning, sweetheart." His face brightened considerably.

"Daddy's wearing lipstick!" Elizabeth giggled. She was pointing like everyone didn't know where to look. Eric only smiled - he needed to wash his face anyway.

"Are we having beckfast?" Delia asked. Jackie sat her in her booster seat.

"Of course! We always have breakfast, guys. Expect it. Today is Saturday. You know what that means, right?" Jackie asked. Elizabeth began dancing. Jackie swung her in the air, then gently laid her on a rug and tickled her until she was screaming in laughter.

"Omelets and bacon!" Jackie exclaimed. Delia screamed in excitement. Eric kept quiet, but smiled and laughed as he watched his happy family. It was truly a Kodak moment.

Once everyone had settled down, Jackie had time to fix breakfast while Eric chatted with the kids. Delia told him about a new game she'd learned on Barney; Elizabeth showed off her writing skills on napkins. Eric congratulated both of them and uttered an enthusiastic 'wow' whenever they showed him anything impressive.

After serving breakfast to everyone else, Jackie took her usual seat across from Eric at the table. The kids began devouring their food, while Jackie picked at hers carefully.

"How did you sleep, honey?" Eric asked. He really hadn't been able to talk to her when she'd first gotten up; she had a thing about looking her best first thing in the morning. When Eric woke up, Jackie was already in the shower.

"Fine. I'm unusually energetic today," She replied, smiling at her food. Eric nodded thoughtfully, the way he always did when he was considering saying something.

"Do you think the, uh, medicine, is helping yet?" He asked. Jackie dropped her fork and stared at Eric, who immediately regretted saying anything.

"Why does everything have to be about that, Eric? God, you just completely ruined my mood. I can't believe you just asked me that. Especially when you know I'm PMSing!" Jackie threw her napkin down and pushed her chair back, then crossed her arms.

"I'm supposed to know these things?" Eric stammered, "Sometimes, Jackie, I just can't get over your expectations for me. What do I ever expect from you?" Eric raised his voice slightly, but not enough to scare the kids into thinking they were fighting. That's where Jackie came in. She cocked her head to the side and gave him a death stare.

"You know, Eric, some things are better left unsaid," She explained, her voice firm enough to burn deep. Eric wasn't afraid. He'd dealt with Jackie for years and knew her ways better than anyone. He knew every card she was going to play, and he had a comment to match all of hers.

"I asked you a simple question. It's not like I told the world my wife got on Prozac! I mean, why would I want anyone to know that? It was a simple question between husband and wife. We're supposed to tell each other everything, you remember that, honey? At our wedding? We promised we'd be honest with each other?" Eric replied, his voice still not raised but equally as firm as hers had been. Jackie fumed. Eric could have sworn he saw the fire rising in her eyes.

"Eric, I will not have you talking to me like that!"

"Mommy," Elizabeth began, innocently, "What's Prozac?"

By then, Jackie had had enough. She threw her napkin dramatically on her plate, stood up, and stormed into the living room. Eric smiled; he knew he'd officially "won" the argument, though he knew he'd be apologizing later.

"Prozac," Eric turned to his six-year-old daughter, "is something that grownups take whenever they feel bad a lot."

"Mommy feels bad a lot?" Elizabeth asked. She was confused; her mom always seemed fine to her.

"Yeah," Eric replied, with a sigh. It made him sad to explain this to a clueless six-year-old, but he'd promised himself when she was a baby that he'd never flat out lie to her. It also made him sad that neither him nor his children provided enough stability in his wife's life to stop her consistent depression.

Jackie first felt a tinge of depression after having Delia. The doctors said it was normal, offered her some anti-depressants, but she initially rejected it. Everything seemed ok for a year. Jackie was doing fine with work, they were making money, the kids were healthy.

The roof caved in when Jackie had a miscarriage. She spent nights crying in bed, getting very little sleep. Eric's kind words and tender kisses never seemed to be enough. She was struggling with her job. Once, Eric had to talk to her boss and beg him not to fire her. Sometimes, Jackie would call Eric at work just to hear his voice and know that he was safe and nothing had happened to him. Whenever she'd see the kids after a long day of work or school, she'd take them in her arms and it would seem as if she hadn't seen them in a month instead of eight hours. At night, she would get less than five hours of sleep on average. The entire time, Eric would hold her and kiss her and whisper encouragement to her like any supportive husband would.

Jackie knew that Eric was good husband. He was cut out for the domestic life more than most guys were. She knew if she'd married Hyde or Kelso, they'd have beer guts and watch football more than being supportive fathers. Eric was more loving and sweet in the simple things than the other two were when they were most romantic. He could still sweep Jackie off her feet, but she knew she never gave him the chance. Her depression had left their relationship cold. She knew her mood was killing Eric. He had more signs of depression than she did. Bags under his eyes, a cup of coffee constantly attached to his hand. Anytime Jackie lacked sleep, Eric did too. When she didn't feel like cuddling, she liked to leave a six-inch space between them for her conscience. She never told Eric why, and he never questioned. When she felt like being close to him, he'd hold her and she'd cry. She didn't want to keep him awake, but it just happened that way. Eric liked to think that comforting her with kisses and warmth might ease her pain. He liked to think that. About once a month, Jackie left Eric with the kids on a Saturday and treated herself to several Starbucks as she read a book. She called this her "alone time". She never told Eric where she went, but again, he didn't ask.

Eric got through a day at a time with a lot of caffeine. Three cups of coffee with massive amounts of sugar in the morning, a Starbucks cappuccino during his lunch break, and several cups when he got home. His co-workers mentioned on more than one occasion that he seemed tired and worn down, but he ignored it. Eric knew that marriage was supposed to be hard, but sometimes he wondered if it was hard because he and Jackie weren't meant to be. He'd scold himself for even thinking it, but sometimes his thoughts wandered to what would have happened to him if he'd never gotten the call that his mother had died. Or if she'd left the store two minutes earlier and missed the other driver. Or if he didn't go back. Would he still be in Chicago? Would he have ended up in Point Place eventually? Would he be happy? All in all, Eric figured his life wasn't bad. He had a wife who seemed to love him most of the time, two precious kids that loved him dearly, and a good job as the superintendent of the new super Wal-Mart. He hoped not to follow in his father's lethal footsteps, so when he could, he did things completely different than Red had. This is what got Eric through the days.

Jackie had been working as a receptionist for Dr. Henry Hartford for two years. It paid average, but it was easy and it was a job, after all. Dr. Hartford was a dentist, one of the few dentists in Point Place that was actually worth a crap. It was a busy office, but Jackie could usually keep up with everything. Her problem was missing and worrying about Eric and the kids. Luckily for her, her and Eric both had Saturdays off and usually spent time together and with the kids on the weekends. After the incident that morning, however, Eric doubted he'd be included in the activities.

After cooling down, Jackie came back to the kitchen, where Eric had taken up the dirty dishes, washed them, dried them, and put them away. It secretly melted Jackie's heart, but she appeared cold on the outside.

"I'm taking the kids to Toys R Us and then we're going to have lunch at McDonalds. Do you want me to bring you home a McChicken?" Jackie asked. She stood in front him, meeting his eyes, but with no smile or touch of forgiveness on her face. Eric shrugged, then took a sip of coffee.

"I'll heat up leftovers," Eric replied. He turned back to the dishes, continuing to put them away exactly as Jackie liked them. She saw the sadness in his eyes, the disappointment. For once she felt like she'd been too cold. Her eyes filled with tears and she immediately ran to him, throwing her arms around him.

"I'm so sorry," She cried, allowing him to lay his head on her shoulders, "I've been so mean to you. You've done nothing but support me and I always jump on you."

"It's ok," Eric assured her, trying to believe himself. She suddenly kissed him passionately, weaving her tongue through his mouth the way she did when they were just married; before the kids, before the depression, before the jobs and routine, they had a love life, a relationship, devotion.

"I'm so sorry. You should come with me and the kids," Jackie suggested. The pain never left Eric's eyes, even after the apology and the kiss. He shook his head slowly, almost afraid to anger her again.

"No thanks," He replied, his voice monotone and tired. "I think I'll take a nap. I never have much time to sleep anymore." Jackie nodded.

"That's my fault, too. I need to stop being selfish," She decided. Eric didn't believe she would change, so he only shrugged.

"I've had a lot of long days lately," Eric told her, which was true. What he didn't tell her was that she was part of the reason they'd been so long. In that moment of silence between conversations, Jackie looked at Eric for the first time in months. Her eyes filled with tears when she noticed the face that had once been full of life and fun now was scarred with small, distinct wrinkles that she was just noticing. A constant frown thanks to small lines and creases. The eyes that had once been youthful had grown old before their time.

"Well, I guess we'll go," Jackie stated, when the air was getting too thick with silence. She walked away and was near the kids rooms, when Eric called her back. "Yeah?"

"I guess I'll take that McChicken."

---

Please review and tell me what you think. And please be honest. Thanks in advance.


	3. The Way Out

**Title: The Ties That Bind  
Type: That '70s Show Fan Fiction  
Rating: PG-13 (Sex, Drugs, Language)  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of That '70s Show. I do own all my original characters and this story, though. Don't take.  
Summary: After years apart, the gang finds themselves connected once again in the '90s.**

**Writer's Note:** I haven't seen a lot of recent episodes of That '70s Show, but basically, this story takes place as if Eric did not go to Africa. Instead, he left to find himself. The rest is easy to pick up on.

**ALSO: This story is a bit adult, but not graphic enough to fit into the M category. Be warned that it contains depitions of sex, drugs, language, and possible violence. The rating may be upped, but I'll warn you before that.**

**Chapter Two: The Way Out**

McDonalds was unusually crowded that Saturday. Delia Forman, being only three years old, found her mother preoccupied with ordering the right kids meals and waiting for the slow service of "loser high school drop outs" to serve her lukewarm cheeseburgers. The Play Place looked especially enticing today; it'd been ages since she'd actually played on the Play Place. As her mother handed the worker her cash, Delia found herself somewhere in a crowd of people, making her way toward the play area.

She arrived to find herself among several kids her sister's age, a woman her mother's age buried in the newspaper, and an elderly pair of grandparents. Removing her shoes quickly, Delia excited herself about the goal she'd set for herself: make it to the top this time.

She began at the crawl-through and climbed until she was too tired to climb anymore. Suddenly, she felt a bout of claustrophobia coming on, and her head began to spin as children pushed her out of the way, passing her. Despite these feelings, she continued on until she'd made it to the top. Then, looking around, she realized that she was all alone. So, like any other three-year-old in a predicament such as this, she screamed.

The grandparents were the first to become concerned. They began to whisper among themselves, beckoning their grandchildren to help the screaming girl. The children, more concerned with their own limited playing time, declined the offer. One of the grandparents, an elderly woman of probably sixty-five, tapped the woman reading the paper.

"Do you hear that girl?" The grandmother asked. The woman folded her paper.

"Yeah," She replied, "Where are her parents?" Both looked around. They were the only adults out there besides a couple in the process of leaving.

"She came out alone. Do you have a kid that will help her?"

"Yeah," The woman replied, taking pity on Delia, who's screaming never ceased. "Logan!" A little boy of about seven emerged from throwing balls at his sister.

"What?" Logan asked, angry that he'd been called away from his game.

"Go up to the top and get that poor little girl. Direct her down here," The woman, arms crossed, instructed the boy.

"Oh come on! I don't want to. She's a _toddler_," Logan protested, but the woman's eyes grew angry.

"What would your mother think if I told her you weren't obeying me?" The woman asked. Logan sighed loudly, muttered a 'fine', and headed to the top.

In record time, the little boy made it to the top and helped the tiny girl to safety. He presented Delia to his babysitter, who took the sobbing girl in her arms. Desperate for comfort, Delia didn't care whether or not she knew this woman.

"Honey?" The woman, who's voice had softened, spoke. Delia continued crying. "Honey, I need to know where your mommy or daddy is." Delia continued crying on the woman's shoulders. She was still crying when Jackie stormed out the door to find her daughter in the arms of a woman who wasn't her mother. Dragging Elizabeth by the hand, she approached the woman, who was at least five inches taller than her.

"Delia! Oh my God, honey!" Jackie exclaimed, jerking her daughter from the arms of the stranger.

"She was at the top of the Play Place when she started screaming. I had to have a boy get her down. You shouldn't leave such a young girl unattended like that," The woman told Jackie.

"Please don't tell me how to be a parent!" Jackie exclaimed, but immediately regretted it, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I don't know where my head's been lately. I know I shouldn't have let her out of my sight. She's three, for God's sake. I'm sorry I had to be a burden on you. Thanks for helping my daughter." Jackie started to turn around, but the woman's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Wait a minute," The woman said, her voice soft. Jackie turned. "Jackie Burkhart?"

Jackie stared at the woman for a moment, trying to place the face. She'd heard the voice before, she knew this woman. It was another minute before she realized. When she saw the woman throw her red hair into a quick bun, she remembered.

"Donna?" Jackie asked, barely audible.

"Jackie! Oh my God!" Donna brought Jackie into a hug, squishing Delia and Elizabeth between them.

"You know her, Mommy?" Elizabeth asked.

"Me and Donna are old friends," Jackie explained, "It's been what, ten years? Oh my God, longer than that. It's been, like, fifteen years."

"Almost," Donna confirmed, her eyes filled with happy tears.

"Do you want to have coffee with me?" Jackie wanted to know, her voice much more pleasant than it had been ten minutes beforehand, "I'd love to catch up."

"I'd love that too," Donna agreed.

They ordered coffee while the girls quietly ate their Happy Meals. Jackie's head began spinning. She never thought she'd see Donna Pinciotti again and here, almost fifteen years later, she rescued her daughter from the monster of McDonalds.

"When did you come back to Point Place?" Jackie asked, while she casually added three sugars and two half-and-half's to her coffee, then stirred them all together.

"About five years ago," Donna told her, "I'm surprised we haven't run into each other sooner. It's not like this town is even slightly big." Jackie smiled.

"If you don't mind me asking," Jackie began, "Why did you come back?" Donna looked at her napkin, traced the designs with her fingers.

"I don't know. California wasn't very rewarding. I have family here. I had friends," She looked back up at Jackie, "I missed the memories. But I really haven't made any new ones. I'm just kind of.. here."

Jackie nodded. "I know what you mean."

"Yeah, but at least you're doing something with your life. I mean, you have two kids. They're beautiful," Donna replied. She smiled, looking at her friend's children.

"I know, but sometimes.." She began, but remembered the presence of the children. "Life can be really hard sometimes." Donna nodded. A moment of silence passed over them.

And then Donna asked.

"Can I ask you a weird question?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"Did you end up marrying Kelso?" Donna wanted to know. A large lump formed in Jackie's throat. What could she say?

"No," She answered simply, "I haven't seen him in years. Why do you ask?" Donna shrugged.

"I don't know. Elizabeth kind of looks like what I always imagined you and Kelso's child to look like. She looks just like a Kelso," Donna replied, smiling.

"Oh," Jackie replied, glancing at her daughter. She smiled. Elizabeth was beautiful. And now that she thought of it, she had a few of Kelso's features. She could see Donna's reasoning.

"Hey," Donna spoke. Her voice kind of cracked.

"Yeah?" Jackie asked. She was almost afraid of Donna's question. Almost afraid that she knew what she'd be asking.

"You never happened to see Eric again, did you?" Donna asked, smiling. Jackie's heart jumped. There was no way she could have explained in words, so she opened her purse, searched for her wallet. She opened her wallet, removed a picture, and handed it to Donna.

It was a picture of Jackie, Eric, and the girls on Thanksgiving of 1991. Eric had his arm around Jackie. They were both smiling. They seemed happy. Elizabeth was standing in front of her father, his free hand on her shoulder. Delia was holding onto Elizabeth's waist. She'd grown considerably since the picture was taken.

Donna was taken aback. Tears almost came to her eyes, but she didn't want Jackie to see, so she didn't allow them. Her fingers ran along Eric's face. He'd aged considerably since she'd last seen him. She remembered the day he left like she remembered yesterday.

Trying to get that image out of her head, Donna handed the picture back to Jackie. She tried to force a smile, but couldn't fake it.

"This must be really weird for you considering.." Jackie didn't finish her thought. Her mind raced back to the times in the basement. She remembered when Eric and Donna first began dating. They'd always been close, but she remembered helping Donna prepare for their first official "date" and how terribly wrong it had gone. She remembered how Donna was always happy around Eric. How they lit up when they saw each other. She remembered Donna being embarrassed to tell her the details of when she first slept together. This woman who she was sharing coffee with had taken her husband's virginity.

"Yeah, it's.. pretty weird. How did it happen?" Donna wanted to know. Jackie shrugged.

"You heard that Kitty died a few years back, right?" Jackie asked. Donna nodded. "Eric came back for her funeral and he found me. We were both kind of a mess. Stuff just happened. He asked about you."

"What did you say?" Donna asked. The voice that had once been strong now seemed timid and afraid to even hear the answer to the question.

"I told him the truth. I told him that he broke your heart. I told him that you moved to California."


	4. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Author's Note—

I'm thinking of continuing this. Wondering if anyone would still be interested?


End file.
